


The Fighter

by gravitation (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Delusions, F/M, Hallucinations, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misery, No Smut, Terminal Illnesses, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 20:44:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/gravitation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry refuses to let anyone in, not wanting to see them get hurt.<br/>But he realized a long time ago that being alone hurt too.</p><p>DISCONTINUED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> miserable and fluffy, just how I like it.

It wasn’t always so bad, Harry was never completely alone. It was his fault really, pushing his family and friends away consciously. He was too thoughtful in that aspect, too kind. But soon he knew he’d regret it, when there was no one around to give a shit about him anymore. 

His mum would visit him every day on the top floor of the hospital, the floor that housed the terminally ill patients quite obviously labeled Floor T. She wouldn’t let his sister come to see him though, knowing it would be too hard. Harry guessed that she’d already told her he was dead, to ease her mind of the stress of not-knowing because his health was taking a nose dive downwards. But his mental health was heaving foreword with a heavy load on his shoulders, at least he was sane. The doctors said they were surprised his mind wasn’t faltering at this stage, but that it would follow quite shortly. Undoubtedly.

It was then that he started not letting anyone come to see him, and it was then that everyone who’d once loved the awkward, cheeky curly-haired boy stopped coming for all the right reasons. Harry thought it might be easier for them, and for himself, if they kept off. He’d been so terribly wrong, at least for himself. He was alone, miserable, and just wanted to be done. Whether the end be death or some miraculous miracle he’d survive and never be touched by the illness again, he wanted out. 

But already one long month in the hospital and he had had enough. The doctors didn’t know if the disease was Lung Cancer or Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis. Both terminal illnesses, Harry found he didn’t care which it was. His impending death was unavoidable. He knew it was coming, but he rather wished he didn’t.

 

Everything seemed so far away recently. Even if he was physically there, he didn’t seem to take notice to anything the doctors said to him…because who was he to care? It wouldn’t change a thing in the end. He’d die and he’d die alone.

 

 

Louis was always a little bit sick. He’d often come down with colds and fevers once or even twice every three months, so to say he was worried about this slightly more intense sickness of his was a complete lie. He was used to feeling (and sometimes looking) like crap, but trying to grin right through. All crinkly-eyed and loud. 

His mum always worried for him, through any of his small sicknesses, and this time was no different. Hepatitis A was no big deal, the doctors had said, not half as bad as the B form of it. They said it would be a few weeks until his immune system would fight it off, only a few. He wasn’t worried. The four little lights in his life visited many a times as well. Lottie always teasing and lighthearted, Fizzy downcast and quiet, the Twins bursting with life and asking what each and every thing in the room would do. 

It would all be ok in the end, it was only a few weeks. Then he could get back to life at Uni.

It wouldn’t be hard at all.

But Louis had a habit of assuming the better when things usually began to crumble.

And he was usually oblivious.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis is only a little bit sick, thank you very much. Liam blushes a lot and Harry listens to Eleanor gossip like always.

“Mum, I’m fine, honest. Only a few weeks, yeah?” Louis spoke up as Jay Tomlinson pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. She always worried too much for him, through each and every sickness he’d ever contracted. From the casual cold to the more serious swine flu, Boo Bear was always taken care of. 

This time around it was a mild form of Hepatitis A, the lesser and weakest between the three options, so he was rather relieved. The doctors said he would fully recover, since the worst that the illness could even bring was stomach and headaches, dry throat and coughing, faintness, and closed sinuses. Not to say Louis was looking forward to staying in a white, empty hospital room with nothing to do but blow his nose until it was raw, but he was relieved that it wasn’t too serious. 

“I know…we’ll come visit as often as we can, okay?” Jay said, finally letting up from her intense embrace, arms still draped loosely around her son’s shoulders as she gave him a watery smile. The rest of the girls in the room grinned and hugged him tight, the smaller twins gripping at the legs of his pants.

“Hey, I’m fine. I’m not dying, right?” He said, and gave a forced chuckle, knowing it would cheer them up in the least. Lottie smiled encouragingly and Fizzy did so, more subtly. 

He gave the girls all a tight hug in return, smiling and squeezing his eyes shut and laughing softly as they huddled in closer. “Now go on, I need my beauty sleep and so do you all!” he said, recoiling a bit and pulling a face that made the twins giggle. He ruffled their blonde hair gently before fixing it and watching as Fizzy led the way towards the door, smiling significantly more than she had been before.

Lottie gave him one last hug, as did his mum before they were carrying the twins out of the door.

A dull silence overtook the room and all Louis could do to break it was give an exasperated sigh, groaning and flop backwards onto the white hospital bed, legs hanging off the side from the knees down. He sprawled his arms sideways, resting shut his blue eyes and a frown pulling at one corner of his chapped lips. Now how much trouble could one 18-year-old boy get into when in a hospital of five floors and no chaperone?

Louis reckoned a lot of trouble. But what fun was it when none of his friends were there with him. None. He wanted to make a friend, but he knew that the reason people his age were admitted to hospitals were probably not because they were socially deprived, but rather they were sick and being held there in order to regain somewhat of a normal health, if at all possible. 

He groaned again, draping his arm over his eyes. It was only five minutes in and he was already bored out of his mind. He didn’t want to text people, didn’t want to watch TV or daydream. He wanted to do something productive.

To say he was excited when he heard a knock at the door was an understatement. His head shot up, blue eyes bright and a grin growing on his lips. He forced himself to tone it down, knowing no one would want to talk to him if he looked like that. Not even a friend.

He cleared his throat silently, sitting back a bit before speaking up, holding back the excitement from his words. “C-Come in!” he called, moving himself to sit back against the slightly reclined pillow on the perfect white sheets. 

When the matching white door was pushed open, a lump formed in Louis’ throat. It wasn’t anyone he knew, but it was someone he wished he did almost instantly.

Now Louis had known he was gay for a long time, and was quite content with his sexuality. He came out to his mother at fourteen and she was a bit too supportive to say the least. Lottie took it fine, not completely understanding what being gay even was but she’d always tell him about the boys in her class that she thought were cute. The other three girls were a little oblivious to it, but he didn’t bring it up often. They understood it was a touchy subject, so no one prodded him for information.

So having knowledge of his own being gay, he recognized the man who walked through the door as, well, attractive. He wasn’t going to lie to himself. Not saying Louis was attracted to the man sexually, but rather just acknowledged his perfect bone structure and kind eyes, admired him, let’s say. He wasn’t a slut, after all.

The man had a kind smile, somewhat thick eyebrows and soft-looking brown hair, no longer than an inch or maybe two. He reminded Louis of a puppy, soft and sweet and cute as hell.

“Mr. Tomlinson, I’m the main doctor for this floor. It’s nice to meet you. Just here to do a quick checkup.” The man said, smiling warmly at him as he glanced down at his clipboard. 

Louis found himself smiling and he nodded. “Nice to meet you too Dr….” he paused, looking about his chest for a name tag and finally finding it pinned to the white lab coat, over his heart, “..Payne.” he said, smiling up at the man and relishing in the hot pink blush the man was sporting.

“Y-you can call me Liam…is fine.” The man fumbled, setting his clipboard down on the bedside table and averting his eyes, poorly attempting to hide the tint of red to his cheeks. Louis had that effect on people, more often than people might think. Too bad older guys were really not his type, and he’d feel bad corrupting such a cute puppy-dog face. He decided to let up.

Louis grinned, blue eyes bright and laughing, and shrugged. “Okay, Liam. You can call me Louis if you’d like.” He offered in return, smiling and shrugging plainly, watching Liam squirm under his gaze. Now he was amused.

“I-I’d rather not.” Liam said shyly, eyes flitting away as he pulled a stethoscope from the drawer. From then on he took on a more serious, sure-of-himself personality. Maybe he’d finally gotten used to Louis’ behavior. Louis sighed, biting his lip and frowning, a sort of pout. 

The circular piece of metal that Liam had now on his bare chest was in no way comfortable. It was cold and awkward and Louis had no desire to tease the older doctor in that moment. So he didn’t, and Liam visibly relaxed, listening to his heartbeat. 

“So, I know people don’t generally come here for fun, but do you know of any people my age who are…somewhat healthy…here? It is quite boring with no one to talk to.” He said casually, blue eyes wandering around the room to all the strange contraptions. He coughed dryly for a moment before trying to clear his throat and just choking on something further in his throat.

Liam sighed, pulling the opposing end of the stethoscope from beneath Louis’ shirt maybe a bit quicker than necessary. He looked deep in thought, as if trying to recall something, eyes drifting up and left. “Yeah, there are probably about five teenagers here that are sane, more than usual actually.” He said, moving on to point a light in Louis’ eyes, scrawling something down on his clipboard afterwards. 

Louis was ecstatic, despite the temporary blinding light Liam had shown in his eyes. He blinked rapidly until his vision returned, coughing somewhere along the way. “Really-“he choked a bit, a coughing fit ensuing. “…? Could I meet some of them maybe?” he said once he regained enough oxygen to continue. 

Liam looked briefly worried, patting Louis on the back before he went over to his clipboard. “Since you’re not contagious…” he paused, “maybe I could work something out.” 

Grinning and nodding enthusiastically, Louis let Liam do the rest of the checkup without bothering him, just plain excited that he might get to meet someone else his age in the huge hospital. Maybe they could be friends…

Liam was currently going through the drawers, trying to find a blood pressure cuff or something of the sort, when Louis’ bright eyes glanced back to the clipboard he’d left behind on the bed sheets. Sneaking a glance at the doctor, Louis silently and stealthily snatched up the clipboard, his only intention to read what Liam had recorded for him or other patients, but reaching the last few pages, he noticed a seemingly endless list of names and ages and room numbers that was all a bit overwhelming.

Liam was still searching intently, oblivious to the peeping tommo. Louis lifted up the clip, slowly pulling loose the last few papers and shoving the small stack underneath the sickly white pillow before returning the clipboard to its original place next to Louis’ calf.

Just then, Liam looked up with the contraption in hand.

The rest of that checkup went by with Liam wondering why the Louis seemed so nervous because ‘There was nothing to be scared about and he would only be getting his blood pressure checked.’ And it took nearly ten further minutes for Louis to convince the doctor that, really, he was fine and he didn’t need anything else.

Liam promptly left and moved to his next patient, the moment the door closed behind him Louis pulled the stack of papers from the pillowcase, eyes scanning down the charts, arranged by floor level.

Only a few of the names caught his interest, likely because of the age range he’d been searching for. He squinted his eyes to better read the names, so wishing he hadn’t left his glasses at home now.

**Edwards, Perrie. FM. 18 years. Floor A. Room 176.**

**Horan, Niall. M. 17 years. Floor D. Room 478.**

**Lloyd, Cheryl. FM. 19 years. Floor B. Room 245.**

**Malik, Zayn. M. 18 years. Floor C. Room 391.**

**Sheeran, Edward. M. 20 years. Floor E. Room 502.**

**Styles, Harold Edward. M. 16 years. Floor T. Room 2.**

Louis stared curiously at the last name he’d noted, eyebrows knit in confusion. Floor T? How odd, considering the only floors Louis had been told existed were labeled A-E. He pondered what the T meant, since it was so off from the other alphabetical letters, but truly found he hadn’t an idea. Sighing and rubbing his temples. He was contracting a headache from thinking so hard, and Hepatitis A was definitely playing a significant role in his health. Only then did he realize this wouldn’t be as fun as he’d thought.

But then again, nothing ever was.

Lying back on the bed, he stared up at the (he was beginning to grow sick of the color) white ceiling. Before he could acknowledge it, his eyes were fighting to stay open and his mind fell into black.

And for once, the black was soothing rather than frightening.

—

It wasn’t that Harry didn’t like Eleanor; she was a pretty girl and had a nice personality. But she was one of the gossipy types. And because of this, Harry knew everything about every person that had ever once stepped inside the hospital ever. Everything. 

Maybe she figured that since no one came to see him, he’d want someone to pay attention to him, to talk with him. But even if that was the case, he never really had the chance to talk to the nurse anyway, with her never-ending gossip sessions every time she came to draw his blood or just check up on him. But he listened, he always listened to her. He felt it was the least he could do.

Her current interest though centered around a new patient, Male, eighteen years. She only knew his last name due to the fact that she only had the list of patients for the top floor of the hospital, the ones relevant to her. She knew the name Tomlinson from Dr. Payne, or Liam as he was more often called, because that was what the man had apparently resorting to call him. That in itself was odd because Liam was rather friendly and liked to be on a first-name basis with everyone. Apparently the boy was not too sick, but had a minor form of something that had easy potential to be serious.

And if he could go off of what Nurse Eleanor had told him, he was really fit. Like really fit. He must’ve been more so than anyone else she’d ever told him about because she really seemed to keep emphasizing the fact. It was rather annoying actually, but he let her keep pining over someone. At least it would only be for a few weeks.

Maybe it was rude to have an opinion of the Tomlinson boy already without even having met or seen him, but Harry had a picture set in his mind. A big, buff guy with grey-blue eyes and brown hair and muscly and just, well, fit. Of course, it wasn’t much to go off of since Eleanor had only ever seen the boy from a distance of 10 ft+. He pictured him with a deep, steady voice and an overbearing, slightly unintelligent personality because that was what Eleanor liked. At least those were the last guys.

So when she returned to take his temperature that night before bed, he hardly paid her his attention. In fact, he didn’t even try to keep himself awake. The night swallowed him up and he didn’t stop it, because he didn’t want to know about another one of Eleanor’s never-going-to-happen boyfriends.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis is bothersome and is invading Harry's life, and he's never actually met the boy.  
> Liam blushes like a schoolgirl all the time recently.

Harry wasn’t allowed out of his room for various reasons. If he moved around too much, his breath would resort to wheezing from exertion and he often didn’t feel up to moving anyway. He never did complain though, because rather than wanting to make friends and talk to people, Harry would rather suffer alone for everyone else’s sake. It was somewhat sad that he was alone almost 24hours every day excluding visits from Liam and Eleanor and other nurses.

 

His health recently though was at a steady line…aiming slightly downward. He didn’t seem to notice his strength depleting or that he was growing more and more tired, or that he never seemed to be hungry any more. Eleanor had to force him to eat something, and even then it wasn’t willingly and he certainly didn’t appreciate it.

 

A knock came at Harry’s door the morning after Louis’ arrival, and Harry didn’t even voice for Liam to open the door before he was already stepping inside quietly, shutting the door behind him. An exasperated sigh escaped Liam’s lips as he settled his clipboard down on the bedside table, rubbing his temples. Harry smiled warmly at him, eyes a bit empty and sad, despite the increasing pain in his chest. “How’s work this morning?” Harry asked softly, choking subtly and swallowing down the chronic cough.

 

Liam smiled weakly back at him, in a sad way that always made Harry’s stomach twist uncomfortably in guilt. “Alright I guess,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck, “Mr. Tomlinson was a pain today…I’m sure Eleanor’s told you about him.” He assumed in all honestly, Harry chuckling weakly against the pressure in his lungs.

 

“I have heard a lot of him.” Harry concluded, leaving the room in a comfortable silence as Liam fished out a bottle of pills from deep in his lab coat pocket. Harry watched him intently, green eyes holding back.

 

After a long time in the silence, he finally found the courage to break it. “Hey Liam….” Harry asked quietly, face turned downwards while his dull eyes peeked up through thick eyelashes to look at the doctor.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“…Why don’t you call him by his first name…?”

 

“….who?”

“…You know…Mr. Tomlinson…?”

 

Liam’s cheeks grew significantly redder and he turned away from Harry in weak attempt to hide it. But Harry caught on rather quickly, eyebrows perked up in amusement. “You’ve fallen for him too!” Harry accused and Liam only blushed harder, the tips of his ears pink. “Just like Eleanor!”

 

“No, that’s definitely not true…He’s just…quite…charming to say the least. In an obnoxious way, actually.” Liam explained himself, cooling off a bit and able to face Harry again, a small frown plaguing his lips.

 

Harry sighed, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back against his pillow, faint smile at his lips. “Sure, sure.” He agreed, sighing and glancing down. Why was this boy the center of everyone’s attention recently? What was so special about him that he even had Liam charmed. Liam who was straight as a ruler and had a girlfriend, if Harry remembered correctly. “How’s Dani?” he asked plainly, laying back his head and resting shut his eyes.

 

Liam sighed, handing a few pills in Harry’s direction and a glass of water. “Good, good. She’s dancing backup on that new show…X Factor?” He glanced up when the slim boy didn’t take them. “Harry.” He said, and the younger male took the pills down easy, swallowing the water down soon after.

 

Harry ignored the raw feeling in his throat, but sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I’ve seen a few of them…” he said blandly, scratching at his heads through his unruly curls. 

 

The rest of the checkup went by with small talk about the weather and discussion of recent books, but throughout their conversations Harry was still wondering one thing. Who was this Tomlinson boy that seemed to have everyone charmed? He might’ve grown a little jealous of the boy, whoever he was, and he certainly knew that if he ever did meet the bloke, he would do everything within his power to hate him. 

 

Little did he know it wouldn’t be so easy.

 

Eleanor brought him lunch a little after 1:00pm, some sort of ham sandwich and a bag of crisps. She’d left his door propped open, saying that no one even came up to Floor T besides people he knew anyway, plus he needed some new air in his room since winter was slowly approaching and he couldn’t leave the window open anymore. 

 

Settling the tray on his lap for him, Eleanor sat at the end of his bed, scribbling in her waitress-like notepad. Harry found it a little odd, that she had nothing to say about the Tomlinson boy or anyone really. He stared down at the plate of food in his lap, stomach twisting in discomfort. He wasn’t hungry. Sighing and biting his bottom lip, he pushed the food a bit aways. Only then did Eleanor seem to remember he was in the room too.

 

“Harry Edward Styles, you can’t go another day without lunch. You’re already five times thinner than when I left you yesterday.” She teased, standing and discarding the pad of paper in her pocket, hands on her hips.

 

“I’m just…not hungry.” He mumbled, picking up the fork and stabbing at the bread weakly, face contorted in distaste. Glancing back up to Eleanor though, he timidly lifted the sandwich and took a small, childlike bite of it, chewing with a look of displeasure on his face.

 

She smiled though, making sure he ate at least half before she was satisfied. 

 

She turned her attention, though, to the door. She tipped her head oddly, listening intently to something that sounded far away. She walked towards the open door, poking her head out and looking left and right.

 

It was only then that Harry heard it too, the sound of someone…laughing. It wasn’t that no one ever laughed in the hospital, he did so whenever Liam told him something funny or when Eleanor was making a fool of herself. But this laughter was…light-hearted and just…well, beautiful. It sounded almost feminine, but just loud and obnoxious enough to be male.

 

The faint sound was alluring and just sounded…perfect…to Harry. It sent a smile immediately to his lips against his usual personality, and a blush crept across his cheeks. He wanted to seek out the boy who’d been so happy and carefree, to know what his secret was. Not once had Harry ever been moderately happy in the hospital, so it wasn’t strange that he wanted to know whose voice it was. He bit his lip, fighting back the smile.

 

But soon his efforts were easy, because Eleanor sighed and turned back to him. The boy apparently wasn’t in the hallway. She looked equally disappointed, and just sat down on the end of the bed, curiously watching Harry.

 

“What’s got you so happy?” she asked sharply, eyebrows knit in confusion.

 

Harry rolled his eyes subtly, sighing and sliding back down under the covers, pulling them up to his eyes after he set the tray on the bedside table. His green eyes might’ve been somewhat lighter as they drifted shut. But the smile on his lips was undeniable.

\\\//

 

Louis woke up the next morning sprawled lazily over the small hospital bed, not in a very attractive way. He groaned, exhausted, and rolled himself to his feet, bare feet cold against the floor as he walked to the sink and made himself mildly presentable, pulling most of his bedhead into a beanie so he needn’t worry about it further. His eyesight was pretty terrible, but his glasses were not accessible in the hospital, so he settled for being visually impaired the rest of the day. 

 

Staggering sleepily back to the unkempt bed sheets, he collapsed into them, almost falling back to sleep if Liam hadn’t knocked at the door. Growling irritably, he pulled a pillow off the bed and threw it with all the strength he could muster at the closed door.

 

“Go away, ‘s too early.” He mumbled as Liam opened the door, looking a little shy but increasingly irritated, picking the pillow up and tossing it back in place by Louis’ head, which was pressed face-down into the mattress.

 

“Aren’t you pleasant…” Liam mumbled in return, rolling his eyes and immediately pulling a bottle of pills from his deep pocket. “Besides, it’s nearly 11:00am anyway. Hardly morning.” He said irritably, wasting no time in handing them along with the glass over to Louis. 

 

Louis’ eyes bulged. “11:00am?” he said in disbelief, groaning and burying his face further into the sheets, refusing the pills.

 

“Tomlinson, take the pills. I don’t want you hear longer than necessary.” Liam voiced, still holding the little circles in his hand, half-full glass in the other. Louis sat up, feigning hurt and folding his legs under him before taking them from Liam and pouting a bit, forcing the pills down his throat and trailing it with water.

 

“And I though you liked me.” Louis teased in a whine, bloating his cheeks as he pouted.

 

Liam had never blushed harder, and Louis took pleasure in the doctor’s discomfort.

 

After the awkwardness had settled a bit, Louis spoke up, trying to be subtle or casual in the least.


End file.
